August 31st, Sunset | An Entrance | Fellow Guests
Ellinor Myren stuck out from the crowd. Though she imagined most of the people that were to do the fighting would stand out, the Moorish girl's total lack of formality caused her to part the crowd a little bit. She was wearing the furs of a couple of white wolves she had hunted, aswell as leathers and clothes from various beasts. Her short blonde hair had been combed recently in an attempt to seem worthy of being a guest of such an auspicious event. A headband was wrapped around her forehead, a few inches above her arching, thick dirty blonde eyebrows and sky blue eyes. Her face was sharp, with a nose that rounded off and upwards at the end above a set of pale pink lips that had been parted on the left by a scar recieved long ago. There was a particularly deep healed gash along the right side of her face. It caught the shadows as she peered from side to side. As if her rural clothing wasn't enough, as far as women went she was tall and strongly built, standing at 5'11 with broad shoulders. The Moorish warrior's mouth dropped open as she stared wide eyes at the opulence around her. Still, her outlandish appearence wasn't the thing that made her feel isolated. No weapons were allowed at the event, and Ellinor had complied. She felt naked without a shield strapped on her back and the axe in it's proper leather loop that now hanged limply on her right side. But if she had been caught with a hidden dagger it would have given a bad impression. Not to mention hiding a dagger in a first place was an impolite and rude thing to do. Ellinor wanted to be respectful- especially for the hostess of this particular opulent event.
Her boots clunked noisily on the marble flooring as she wandered into the audacious room. Some of the noble guests gave her accomodating smiles. They all knew why she was here, indeed, she was one of the honored guests. Ellinor smiled meekly back at them and tried to get out of their view. The shield-maiden felt out of place- but it was the first of many sacrifices that would be required on this journey. Oh, yes, Elly thought with a sardonic waggle of her head. What a sacrifice. So terrible to be treated to live music, delicious food, and a night of luxury. Woe is me!
All internal jokes aside, Elly's stomach grumbled as she caught side of the ridiculous cornucopia of food. Smiling she quickly plucked the leather gloves off her hands. Her fingers were strong and calloused, and she immediately went to the meat section. Begging the pardon of those nearby, the tall woman had to restrain herself from falling into the ravenous eating habits of her home land. She was among nobler company. Putting on a dignified pose she plucked a drumstick from the cornucopia and placed it on her plate.
"You're supposed to use these," an older gentlemen next to her offered humorously, apparently waiting for the obviously out of place girl to make a slip up. He was holding some kind of metallic claw.
"Ah. Of course. Thank you," She spoke with a Moorish accent, giving her voice a unique borderline sing song quality, with the words sounding like they were getting caught in the back of her nose. She accepted the advice and began to place various slabs of meat on her plate, then she got the potatoes and the vegetables. Elly was a hearty eater. A night of indulgence in preparation for the long weeks ahead.
With a great harrumph she almost broke a chair as she flopped down, placing her plate onto the table with a loud noise. Immediately she shrunk into her shoulders a little bit, glancing around. Fortunately most of the people around her were sympathetic to her plight. After all, they would be just as out of place in a Moorish festivity.
Slotting a piece of turkey into her mouthh Elly smiled and glanced around. People chit-chatted away near her. An eldery woman dressed in refinery met Elly's gaze and smiled lightly.
"'Ey there," Elly greeted with an upwards nod of her chin, swallowing her food.
"My name's Elly." She reached across the table and extended her hand. The noble stuck her fingers forward gently, Elly clasped them and gave them a stern shake, then sat back into her chair.
"Hello, dear. My name's Sabrina Pendleton. Are you one of the champions setting off a journey tonight,"
"Aye. What gave it away?" Elly said with a smirk, opening her arms as if to gesture to her battle-ready attire.
The woman laughed politely. Elly was trying to make nice but she knew her type. Could never tell if they were being genuine or not. "Well, thank you for your service." She said.
"No problem, no problem at all. Say, I wasn't allowed to bring any weapons in, but look at this pretty little thing." She pointed the tip of the refined silver knife upwards to the sky.
"Knew a lad who killed three angry boars with a knife no smaller than this. Boards the sizes of horses, he claims, but I ain't so sure about that last bit. Still, he brought back some hell of a pelts." She grinned.
"The knife he killed them with was too small to skin them, so he had to make a bone knife outta their tusks. That part, at least, is true- he let me hold it. Lad's name was Ulfric, went by Ulfric the Boar after that." Satisfied at her story telling she began to indulge in her meal once more.
"Really? That is...fascinating." Sabrina said, looking the woman sitting across from her up and down. An older gentlemen with a bushy mustache sat down next to Sabrina. "Have you met my husband?" She asked.
"Hey there, I'm Elly." She said, reaching across the table for a handshake. The man stared at her indignantly before cautiously moving out his hand to do the same. They gave each other a firm handshake and apparently whatever doubts he had in his head vanished.
"Hello there, Elly. I'm Artemis Pendleton. Pleasure to make your acquiantence. You are from the Isle of Moore, I assume?"
"Aye. You?" "Thelan, of course. Are you eager for the journey ahead? Were I a younger man, no doubt I would be joining you." His wife tsked and held his arm. "What? It's true. I was quite the fighter in my day."
"I don't doubt it, Herr Pendleton." Elly said, gesturing abstractly towards the gentleman in a way that seemed to please him. The three of them got on to chatting. Elly paid her due in the conversation but every once in a while her eyes wandered over their heads. No doubt Alice had clocked Elly the second she walked into the room, but the Moorish woman couldn't say the same. Alice probably had her hair all done up and was wearing some fancy dress. Plus, she had grown into an adult woman since the time they had seen each other. Elly sometimes she felt like she hadn't changed much at all. Perhaps that would be true were it not for her increase in size and her face's two prominent scars that were unfamiliar to Alice.
This whole trip had her nervous and excited. Nervous, of course, because it was going to be a long and arduous journey. Excited, because this was her life's purpose. To find the Queen and preserve the fragile peace between nations. It was a long shot, sure. They didn't even know where she was. But they would find her, and bring her home. Whatever reason it was she left, Queen Anice had a responsibility to her people to stop the war. It was inevitable. King Charles sat lazily in the corner, casually terrorizing his servants. Truth be told, people like him irked Ellinor. Still, she wasn't fighting for him, was she? Her brothers and sisters back home. Their parents, their friends, their siblings. Many would be lost in the wars to come, and many would grieve. She had to prevent it. At all costs.
"...and that is the story of how I earned my one and only medal," Herr Pendleton concluded heartily.
"Incredible," Elly agreed, realising she had only half paid attention. Apparently the elderly gentleman was a sailor type.
"Well, you're not half bad a story teller yourself, young lady. With people like you representing us I'm sure we'll..." He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. "I'm sure you'll find Queen Anice in no time."
Elly nodded somberly.
"Aye. I certainly hope so." Those at the table paused their conversation to carry on their meal somberly. The Moorish woman couldn't quite pinpoint what had soured the mood, but the spark of storytelling had died for a moment. Her thoughts drifted to other things. Ellinor began to wonder what kind of allies would be accompanying Alice on her journey. Obviously, Ellinor. But as far as she knew, Ellinor was the only Moorish warrior on the journey. The rest were back home gearing up to go burn down the fields of Alovia, something that no doubt filled the minds of those Alovian merchants who cast wayward glances at the back of Elly's blonde head. Who else was there? Thelians, of course. Alice must have picked the finest soldiers of Thelan to accompany her. Alovians? She was wary of them and their kinship with the witches. A witch or two must be coming with them on their trip, Elly thought grimly. With a sigh she picked at a piece of greenery on her plate with a fork. Ellinor wasn't sure how she'd ever get along with a witch. She would have to try, though, for Alice, and for the cause. Besides, if they agreed to go on this quest, they couldn't be all bad, could they? If Alice had picked them out, she trusted her judgement. A lot can change, though. Still, from letters Elly recieved every so often, Alice seemed to be mostly the same, if wiser. Elly wrote back to Alice far less often than she would have liked. She never was good at reading or writing. Fortunately, her literary skillset was not the one being sought after on this day.
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